He Could Start Over
by AsgardGuardian
Summary: Desperately trying to ignore the prickling he felt on his left forearm, Draco chewed his bottom lip firmly. The taste of salt filled his mouth, but he cared not. He was numb. Completely separated from the world. Already resigned to his grim fate. He had chosen the wrong friends. Joined the wrong army. Worshiped the wrong hero. (The trial of the Malfoys) Post Deathly Hallows
1. Chapter 1

Draco loosened the collar of this black robes with shaking hands. It served little purpose. The lump in his throat was ever growing in what seemed like an attempt at suffocating him. Though, maybe it would have been better if it did. Maybe that way he wouldn't have an eternity in Azkaban ahead of him. Desperately trying to ignore the prickling he felt on his left forearm, he chewed his bottom lip firmly. The taste of salt filled his mouth, but he cared not. He was numb. Completely separated from the world. Already resigned to his grim fate. He had chosen the wrong friends. Joined the wrong army. Worshiped the wrong hero.

Or rather, his parent's had.

He had gone along with it, of course. Branded as a Death Eater. Commanded by the Dark Lord. But ultimately it was their pride. Their folly. Their greed, which had caused this. And he hated them for it. Even then as they sat across the cell, clasping hands, whispering his name, desperately searching their son's face, he wouldn't meet their eyes. Instead, he gazed out of the small window, cursing the dusty, pale light as it shimmered against the darkness. It was likely to be the last bit of sun he ever saw. Azkaban was eternal night. Unceasing storms. Never ending suffering. In short, it was Hell on earth. A place free of happiness. He knew this. His father had told him. Feeling a painful chill run up his wrist, Draco attempted to cross his arms but could not. His hands were tightly bound in unbreakable chains. Swearing under his breath, he rubbed his forearm on his knee. The icy pinching faded away.

"Son-" the shaking voice of his mother pleaded. "Draco? Lucious, make him respond." She choked out a sob.

"Young man, you will reply to your mother. At once." His father's voice sounded strained. Hopeless. He seemed to have given up on making his child speak. And Draco made no reply. They didn't deserve one. He was only eighteen. He had barely lived. And now he was about to be forced to live half of a life until he did, at last, perish. And it was their fault. He hoped they felt guilt. He hoped it would drive them mad. Their son. Their only child. They had sold him away as a servant. Promised him eternal glory. Risked his neck so their own would be spared. They had manipulated him like an animal. He would never forgive them. Breaking his train of thought was the sound of the cell door creaking open.

"Trial for the Malfoys. Draco, Narsissa, and Lucius." A masked guard stated blandly. The family did not reply, merely nodded and weakly rose to their feet. Then, they followed the man out of the cell, through a long hallway, and to a court room. Many people stared as they marched past. Some even spat on ground that their feet touched. Malfoy simply watched blankly, meeting gazes without truly seeing. Letting the insults bounce off his back. Eventually they reached the room where the trial was to be held and their shackles were removed. Draco absently rubbed his left arm and allowed an auror to lead him on stage and tie his legs to the chair he was seated in. His parents were also led to the raised platform. Surrounding it were rows and rows of chairs, all filled with infuriated wizards and witches. They had all come to watch the family of Death Eaters suffer. They wanted to add to the humiliation. Once on the stage, Narsissa and Lucius were chained into two chairs on opposite sides. Though he had sworn not to, Draco felt a pang of guilt. He knew that this was it. His parents would be led away. Taken to Azkaban. And he hadn't even said good bye. Shaking his head, he swallowed hard. No. They deserved it. He bit his lip and listened.

"Ahem! Order. I will have order." Newly appointed Minister of Magic Kingsley Skaklebolt said, rapping on his desk. "Alright. Let us begin." He nodded at a thin witch who dipped a quill in ink and poised her hand, ready to record the events.

"Ahem. Narcissa Druella Black. Wife of Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, a known Death Eater. Mother of Draco Malfoy, a suspected Death Eater. Today you, along with your son, are accused of being a follower of Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort. Do you deny this?"

"I..." Narcissa's voice wavered. Kingsley's gaze grew intense. There was a moment of tight silence. Then, both Narcissa and Lucius spoke at once.

"I do not deny it!"

"She was under the Imperious Curse!"

The courtroom erupted into chaos.

"Order! I will have order!" Kingsley boomed. Once the crowed hushed he spoke again. "Tell me the truth, both of you."

"She was under the Imperious Curse, I tell you. Weren't you, dear?" Lucius begged. Narcissa opened her mouth but no sound escaped.

"She was. I swear on it. Ask our son! Draco? Draco please!" Lucius had tears swimming in his grey, wrinkled eyes as he stared at his son. It seemed everyone's gaze had moved to Draco. He sat, frozen.

"Well, boy? Is this the truth?" The minister asked.

Malfoy's hands shook. He was torn. Emotion welled up inside of him.

"I...She..." He couldn't do it. Covering his face with his hands, he whispered, "No. She was acting on her own." Tears flowed down his cheeks. "I'm sorry Mother!" He choked as the courtroom erupted once more.

"Quiet!" Kingsley bellowed. "Does your son speak the truth?"

Narcissa nodded. Lucius cursed.

"Very well." He drew a breath. "I must discuss this with my jury. We will resume in 10 minutes time."

A great deal of people stood up and left. Soon, chatter filled the high ceilinged room. Draco could hear his mother's sobs echoing and his father hissing at her to be silent. Folding his pale hands, he gazed into them, studying every scar, crease, and wrinkle. Anything to avoid looking at his parents. He couldn't face them and the hatred they were surely feeling. After the ten murderous minutes had passed, Kingsley rapped on his desk once more and everyone fell silent.

"Ahem! Lucius Malfoy, already convicted of being a Death Eater and the murders of countless innocent witches and wizards: life sentence to Azkaban."

Narcissa let out a choked sob but Lucius whispered sharply that it was fine.

"Narcissa Black, self proclaimed Death Eater. Sentence: Life in Azka-"

"Wait!" Lucius gasped. "What if I give you names?"

There was a pause. Kingsley lifted his dark eyebrows. "Of the other Death Eaters, you mean?"

"Yes. I know them all. And where they are likely to hide."

"Perhaps. I must speak again with my jury."

The minister turned and spoke with a couple of wizards sitting beside him in a hushed voice. After a moment, he spoke loudly again.

"Very well. We have reached an agreement. If you can give us a list of Death Eaters which we have not already captured, and if we sucsessfully find said people, your sentence shall be shortened-"

"And my wife?"

There was some whispering.

"Your wife shall be pardoned."

There was a silence. Suddenly Draco realized that his father may leave it at that. Had he not just told the minister that his mother was guilty?

"And..." Lucius sighed. "My son?"

Draco's heart pounded. Could it be? Was it possible that he wouldn't go to Azkaban?

"Your son will be pardoned also."

"Done! I will give you your list!"

The minister nodded and aurors moved forward to unlock the chains binding the Malfoys. The audience roared with protest, but Draco didn't hear them. Relief flooded over him. Relief mixed with shock. He was ready to go to Azkaban. He had become almost comfortable with the fact. And now, he wasn't going. He was free. Or was he? The entire wizarding world knew of his crimes. He would be hated every where he went. Once his chains were unlocked he stood and briskly walked off the stage. He didn't turn around. He didn't look at his parents. He ran. Down the hall. Through the ministry. Out the back door. Into the pouring rain. Then he collapsed against the brick wall and let the water soak him. With a jolt, the stabbing chill ran up his arm again. He clutched it to his chest and closed his eyes, breathing in deeply the smell of wet pavement. After a few moments, he was unable to stop himself. The pain in his arm was terrible. With a grunt, he yanked his left sleeve up and stared. It was gone. The dark mark was gone. He blinked hard, unbelieving. He had thought it would remain on him forever, showing the world what he truly was. He was wrong. He felt tears of relief welling up in his eyes. Then, he did something he hadn't done in two years. He smiled. He laughed. The Dark Lord really was gone. And with him, the mistakes. The pain. The delusion. It was over. And he could start anew. Rolling down his sleeve, he walked up the street. Away from the ministry. Away from his parents. Away from the past.

He could start over.

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**A/N** Hey guys! Thanks so much for reading. Please, please, please review! This is just a one shot so no more chapters but feel free to check out my other HP story, "Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw"


	2. A quick author's note

**A/N Hey guys! Just wanted to let you know that I fixed a few spelling/grammatical errors that I noticed. I guess that's what happens when you write a story past 3AM. :)**

**-AsgardGuardian**

**P.S.**

**Thank you Too Insane For You for the review! I'm so glad you enjoyed it. :)**


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